Today, we celebrate the Transfiguration. I’ve heard about and celebrated the
Transfiguration for years, but not until this year, when I had to spend time
praying and thinking about the readings, did I appreciate its placement in our
calendar.
This is the last Sunday of the season of Epiphany, which also
makes this the last Sunday before Lent begins. This week, we begin our Lenten
journey with Ash Wednesday. We’ll spend
40 days in that penitential and prayerful season of Lent, preparing for Holy Week
and Easter, for the death and resurrection of Christ. It’s in the shadow of that imminent
journey we’ll make that we get these readings today, full of light.
In the Old Testament reading, we hear about Moses going up to
Mount Sinai, where he receives the Law, or the 10 commandments. The reading
tells us he was talking with God. Wow. Talking with God sounds so . . other worldly,
so incredible, so something inaccessible to me.
When he returns, it says the skin of his face
was shining. After sharing the Law with
Aaron and the other leaders, Moses took that shiny illumined face, and covered
it with a veil. He’d remain veiled until
he went back and talked with God, when he’d take the veil off, get lit up
again, and then put the veil back on, covering up his face to return to his
people.
In the Gospel, we hear a seemingly similar story, except this
time, the story is different. Jesus goes
up a mountain to pray, bringing with him Peter, John and James.
In both cases, Moses and Jesus are up a mountain. I love that feeling of looking out over a
landscape from a higher place. There
really is something weightless and feeling a little closer to God, when I’m at
a place to look out over and across a vista.
There’s something immense and Holy about such spaces. I certainly experience that when elevated on
a real mountain, but I also get that sense when looking out over a valley, even
from Skinners Butte, or Mount Pisgah. Anywhere the elevation gives you a higher perspective, there’s something
that feels beautiful and calm.
So Jesus goes up the mountain to pray, to that beautiful and
calm place. While he’s praying, his
clothes became dazzling white, and the appearance of his face changed. That sounds pretty similar. Go up a mountain, and get illumined.
But then, Jesus companions see Moses and Elijah with
Jesus. What an amazing, and possibly
terrifying series of events. And yet, at
that moment when I might be pretty scared, Peter turns to Jesus and says, “Master, it is good
for us to be here”. He senses this is a
good place.
At this point in the story, Peter, John and James try to fit
what they’ve seen into their human paradigm, into their world of what they
understood. They offered to make three
dwellings, possibly three shrines for Jesus, Moses & Elijah. Peter and James and John were trying honor,
memorialize or retain this amazing truly mountain-top experience they were
having. Of course, Moses & Elijah
didn’t need shrines to be honored, dwellings to be housed, and
couldn’t be retained or contained in any case.
God then overshadows them with a cloud. This could be another possibly terrifying
thing to occur at the mountain top, with dazzling Jesus, and the apparition of
Moses & Elijah. God tells them,
“This is my Son, My Chosen, Listen to him”.
At that point in the story, Moses & Elijah disappear and Jesus is
again alone with his friends. They tell
no one.
To me, this year, the greatest difference in these stories is
not the presence of other human witnesses, of Peter, James and John, to this
transfigurative event. It’s not the
presence of other prophets, or even God’s commandment to those there that they
were to “Listen to Him”. To me, this
year, the greatest difference in these two stories is not something present in
Jesus story. It’s something that was
absent from Jesus’ story.
Unlike Moses, Jesus didn’t veil himself. He didn’t cover his illumined face. That light remained visible for all to
see.
Origen, a priest and theologian from the third century,
compares Christ and us, the Church, to
the Sun and the moon. Even on a cloudy
Oregon night, the light from the moon makes the night not totally dark. And on a clear night with a full moon, the
nighttime light from the moon is startling.
And yet, the light isn’t from the moon at all. The moon, on its own has no light to offer. The sun
is so amazingly bright that it can illumine the moon, 93 million miles
away. The light is so bright it can
reflect off the moon, and can cast shadows in the darkest night.
In the readings today, the light from God illumined Jesus and
Moses. Where Moses veiled his face, Jesus
let that illumination be seen and shared.
We too are illumined by God.
Like the moon, it’s not anything we do to be illumined. God’s
light is so great that it lights us up just like the sun lights up the moon. The moon does not choose whether to be lit
up or not – it just happens. We cannot
chose to be lit up or not. It just
happens.
But like Moses and Jesus, we can choose what to do with that
light.
Like a cloudy Oregon night or Moses’ veil, sometimes things
get in the way to obscure our gifted light.
Sometimes we put the veil on ourselves.
We cannot bear the love and light and forgiveness that is given and do
not have the strength to reflect that love and light and forgiveness. We put the veil on ourselves, so no one
knows. So no one sees. So no one else is illumined. No one can see our transformed transfigured
self. Sometimes not even ourselves.
Sometimes we don’t
know the light is there. Sometimes it
doesn’t feel like the light is shining on us.
We feel like a new moon, with something like the Earth that is so big
that it fully blocks the light. I’ve
had times when I’ve felt so down, or so bad, or so undeserving, that I feel
like there’s a big thing between me and God’s transfigurative light. Talking with women in prison, I’ve heard
their stories about big, bad horrible things that they’ve done, that they
believe permanently separates them from that love.
But unlike the new moon, God’s love and light is always on us
and in us. We are a transfigured people. We cannot escape it, regardless of whether we
want to, or believe it.
So here we are, sitting at the beginning of Lent. Lent, for many – including me, can be a time
of self-inflicted distancing from God.
I’m not worthy. God doesn’t love
me. That wrong I’ve committed is so big
that God’s love cannot reach me, cannot illumine me. If I’m not careful, I mistake the penitential
somber season of Lent for a time to punish myself with guilt or remorse over
what’s happened in the past. Then that
remorse or sense of unworthiness can grow to the size of the Earth, which can
totally eclipse the moon, so the sun never reaches it.
If I’m not careful, I
can grab for the veils. I cover my illumined face, so it cannot be seen by
others – including me.
With Lent upon us, we are not asked to veil our faces, or
hide our light. We are not asked to
deny the light and illumination from God.
We are not asked to distance ourselves from God, to voluntarily put
ourselves in the Earth’s shadow, with no light or love.
We are no less loved,
no less illumined, no less transfigured during Lent than any other time of the
year. And throughout the year, throughout our lives, things happen that make us
grab for our veil, or make us feel that God’s love can’t reach us.
And while Lent is not a time to distance ourselves, Lent is a
time we are to pray and think about all of those things in our lives that makes
us feel veiled, or makes us grab for those veils ourself. We are asked to think about our relationship
with God, and with others.
Yes, it’s a penitential season and we’re asked to do some
soul searching. But sitting at either
end of our Lenten Journey every year are pretty uplifting and comforting
events. We start with celebrating
the Transfiguration, and end with the Resurrection. Every year. Lent sits between these promises of
illumination and new life. As today’s
collect says, “Grant that we, beholding by faith the light of his countenance
may be strengthened to bear our cross and be changed into his likeness”
People often want to give something up during Lent. Another option would be to add something to
your Lent. During Lent, pray more. Talk with God more. That’s precisely what Moses was doing when he
was transfigured. Talking with God. It’s not something unattainable, reserved for
other better more holy people. Talking
with God is for us. And when we pray,
when we talk with God, we too are illumined and transfigured. Take that transfigured illumined shiny self
with you all day, all Lent, and reflect the light in the world to
everyone. And please, leave your veil at home.
Amen.
